CHAPTER IX.
"ALL THAT'S BRIGHT MUST FADE."
"I believe my faith in thee Strong as my life, so nobly placed to be; I would as soon expect to see the sun Fall like a dead king from his height sublime, His glory stricken from the throne of time, As thee unworth the worship thou hast won."
Love found Dainty sitting in a large double swing out in the grounds,gently swaying to and fro, and with the fragment of a little song on herrosy lips as she waited for him to join her there.
As the beautiful face turned confidingly to his, Love knew that thesudden love-light in her eyes was reflected from her heart, and that hecould not possibly have a rival in her affections.
When Dainty saw the pale, agitated face of her lover, she started inalarm, and the sweet song died on her lips as she exclaimed:
"Oh, Love, what is the matter? Are you ill, that you look so frightfullypale?"
Love took the swinging seat opposite her, and with an effort atcalmness, answered:
"Do not be frightened, darling. I am not ill. Only very, very angry."
"With me?" she faltered, in dismay.
"Certainly not, dear little one!" he cried, tenderly; continuing withsudden vehemence: "I am angry with the schemers who are trying to partus from each other, darling."
"You mean Olive and Ela," she cried, quickly, the rose-bloom fading fromher dimpled cheeks and her sweet mouth trembling as she sighed: "Oh, Iknew that we were too happy for it to last and that something wouldhappen! There was a shadow on my heart. That was why I was singing, asyou came up:
"'All that's bright must fade, The brightest, still the fleetest, All that's sweet was made To be lost when sweetest; Flowers that bloom and fall, Buds that blight in springing, These, alas! are types of all To which our hearts are clinging.'"
"What a little pessimist you are, Dainty! Always turning your face tothe darker side of life!" cried her lover, somewhat impatiently; adding:"Nothing shall happen to part us, my own little love; though if youraunt and cousins had their way, we would never see each other's faceagain. Listen, Dainty. They have told me falsehoods about you--that youhad left a lover in Richmond; that he has followed you here, and hasbeen sending you notes to meet him in the grounds."
"Shameful!" she cried, indignantly. "How could they be so wicked!"
"And," continued her lover, crumpling the letters into a ball andthrowing them into her lap, "they gave me these notes to read, sayingyou had dropped them, and a servant had brought them to your aunt."
Dainty smoothed out the sheets and glanced at them calmly.
"Oh!" she cried comprehensively. "And did you read them, dear?"
"Certainly not! I could not stoop so low. Besides, I had perfectconfidence in you, my dearest," he cried tenderly.
"Oh, Love, how noble you are to me! But your trust is not misplaced. Ican explain all about these notes; so please read them now," said theyoung girl, earnestly, smoothing them out and holding them open beforehis eyes.
He read, with much amazement, the following notes in a neat, masculinechirography:
"DEAR LITTLE DAINTY,--Will you meet me down at the gate about sunset? I have something very particular to say to you. I know your good heart will make you grant me this small favor. Do not fail me.
"Yours, wretchedly, VERNON."
"MY CRUEL DARLING,--Is it possible you can refuse my earnest prayer for one short interview? Oh, how you have changed since you left Richmond! Yet such a little while ago you swore you loved me as dearly as I loved you, and promised to marry me in December. I see how it is--that rich Ellsworth is winning you away from me. Oh, my love, I can not bear to lose you! Life would be worthless, even unbearable, if you forsook me now! Oh, let me see you once, just once, and you can not resist my pleadings! I curse the hour that your rich aunt tempted you from love and duty! Oh, return to your better self--come to me, dear! I will be waiting at the gate just at twilight. When you see me, you will repent that cold letter breaking our engagement. Come, oh, come, my love; my heart is breaking for you!
"Despairingly, VERNON."
Love finished the reading, and looked up in amazement at Dainty's calmface.
She gave him a sweet, reassuring smile as she said:
"The case certainly looks dark against me, does it not, Love?"
"Yes," he replied, somewhat uneasily, in spite of his faith.
"And yet I can explain it all," she returned, happily; adding: "ThisVernon Ashley was Ela Craye's lover. They were engaged; but Vernon isonly a poor man, a stenographer in a bank, and when Aunt Judith invitedher here, she heartlessly threw him over, hoping to catch a richerhusband. He followed her to Ellsworth, and sent the first little note tome, begging me to ask Ela to grant him an interview. I asked her, butshe refused in scorn; and when I carried him her refusal, he sent herthis note of love and reproach. He also told me he would stay in theneighborhood several days, hoping she would relent. That is the truestory, and if you wish to verify it, Love, you can easily find Mr.Ashley at Caldwell Station, and he will settle all your doubts."
"I have never had a doubt of you, my darling," he answered, bendingforward to kiss her tenderly, as he continued: "But what shamefulduplicity to deceive my step-mother with this false story, for I am sureshe believed every word she was telling me! But never mind; I will geteven with Miss Craye, be sure of that, Dainty. And now I have to tellyou of another story. It is said that you have hysterical spells everynight, declaring that you are haunted by the mythical old monk, with theconsumption. Is this true?"
Instantly the fair, rosy face became pale and downcast, and Daintyshuddered as if an icy blast had swept over her lissom form.
"Oh, who has told you this?" she cried, regretfully.
"The story was told Mrs. Ellsworth by Sheila Kelly. Is it true?" hedemanded, earnestly; and the girl bowed her golden head sorrowfully,faltering:
"Oh, do not be angry with me, Love, but it is true!"
"True? Then why have you kept it from me?" he cried.
"Oh, Love, they told me you always grew angry when you heard anythingabout the Ellsworth ghost. They warned me that you would never forgivethe mention of it. But I can not tell you an untruth. Since you ask me,I must own everything, and take the bitter consequences."
She bowed her fair face in her little white hands, and her form shook aswith ague, in spite of the heat of the July weather.
"Since I came to Ellsworth," she cried, "there has never been a nightbut I have been tortured by the sight or sound of that old sick man. Inthe dead of night I have felt his cold, clammy hand on my brow, andwakened, sobbing with fright, sometimes to see his dark form fading fromsight, and the echo of his hollow cough ringing in my horrified ears.Yet that Sheila Kelly, on her cot across the room, slept heavily on andheard nothing. What secret agonies I have nightly endured only theangels can ever know, Love; but I bore it all rather than incur the riskof your anger and contempt. They had told you I was a coward, and I wastrying to be brave, and not to tell you--to tell you--"
Her voice broke in a storm of choking sobs, and her lover caught her tohis breast in a passion of sympathy.
"My own brave darling! How much you have endured, like a patient littlemartyr, without complaint! Yet I feel sure it is nothing but your toovivid imagination. You have heard the silly stories from the servants,and you dreamed the rest while stolid Sheila Kelly slept on unconscious.But this must not go on. I shall write to your mother to come toEllsworth to stay with you until our wedding; and then, please God, youwill forget, in the shelter of my love, all these nervous fancies."
"Our wedding!" she sobbed, bashfully, against his breast.
"Yes, darling, our wedding; for it must be very soon. I have never toldyou yet, love, that by the terms of my father's will I must marry on orbefore my twenty-sixth birthday, or forfeit my fortune to mystep-mother."
&nbs
p; "What a strange will!" she cried, forgetting her terrors in simplewonderment.
"Yes; my father had some peculiar notions. One of them was a rootedbelief in the necessity, or expediency, of early marriages; and toinsure my obedience to his wish, he framed his will in the fashion hedid. But he was a good man, and I am not quarreling with his plans; forI would gladly get married to-day if you were willing, my preciousgirl," declared Love, kissing her as a fitting period to his sentence.
Dainty made no answer. She was fluttering with girlish timidity atthought of the early marriage he was threatening. She said to herself:
"I love him dearly, but I am afraid I shall not like to be marriedsoon. I have not enough dignity to look like a married lady."
Unconscious of her girlish fears, Love continued, fondly:
"The first day of August is my twenty-sixth birthday, and we must bemarried on that day, my darling."
"Oh, I--" she began; but he stopped the objection with a kiss.
"You are going to say you can not get ready so soon; but you need notmake many preparations, love. I want you to wear my mother'swedding-dress; it is so beautiful--a white brocade, veiled in costlylace. And we will be married at Ellsworth. That will be better thangoing back to the hot city for a wedding--do you not think so? Oh, Iintend to have everything my own way, sweet; and so I shall write toyour mother to-day to come at once to Ellsworth."
"But Aunt Judith--and the girls? They will be fearfully angry," shewhispered, tearfully.
"Yes, they will be very angry, I grant you. But Ellsworth belongs to me,so they will have to behave or leave; and I fancy they will choose theformer part. Now come with me to your aunt and cousins, and see howcleverly I shall pay them out for their meanness. Don't tremble so, mytimid little love."
And taking her hand, he led her back to the house, to a long,vine-wreathed veranda, where the three ladies were sitting together.
Mrs. Ellsworth had just told them of Love's betrothal to Dainty, andthey frowned when the happy lovers came among them hand in hand.
Love placed Dainty in a chair, then turned to his step-mother.
"Madame, Dainty has explained to my satisfaction the story you told mejust now. One of these notes was written to her, the second one to MissCraye, who will not deny that Vernon Ashley is her lover, and thatDainty only acted the part of a friend in trying to reconcile theestranged lovers."
If a bomb had exploded at her feet, Ela could not have been morestartled than at his bold charge.
She started, and paled to an ashen hue, flashing a malevolent look atDainty, and cried threateningly:
"How dared you tell?"
"It was true," the young girl answered, dauntlessly.
"I deny it!" muttered Ela; but every one could read her guilt in herabashed face.
"How dare you tell such falsehoods on Ela?" stormed Mrs. Ellsworth toDainty; but her step-son frowned angrily.
"Madame, I will not permit such disrespect to my betrothed. This is myroof, and every one beneath it shall respect her position. Let me addthat Vernon Ashley is staying at the station still, hoping that MissCraye will relent, and recall him to her side. If you need corroborationof the truth, send for him here, and he will tell you how heartlesslyMiss Craye threw him over before she left Richmond," the young mananswered, indignantly; and Ela, unable to bear the fire of theirglances, rose, and hurried away to her room, while the others remainedsilent, nursing bitter hatred to fever-heat in their hearts, the proudMrs. Ellsworth blaming Dainty most unjustly for her deserveddiscomfiture, and registering a secret vow of deadly vengeance.
Dainty's Cruel Rivals; Or, The Fatal Birthday Page 9
